


After Midnight

by santalune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Alternate Universe - Office, Co-workers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Pining Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27372001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santalune/pseuds/santalune
Summary: Hermione Granger moves to Australia right after school and starts working in their Ministry of Magic. Draco Malfoy transfers there later on. Hermione's assistant tries her best to make new friends.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	1. Take Off

**Author's Note:**

> hey there! i'm not native so if anyone has some constructive criticism about my english skills or just anything in general please let me know. thank you in advance! hope you enjoy

It was six in the morning when she woke up. There was no need for an alarm, since she had had the same routine for the past few years. She waited in the dark, eyes open, for her Muggle smartphone to blast its unpleasant noise at exactly 6:05. The only reason Hermione even had a smartphone was calling her parents, but now that she had finally moved and they were much closer, she just kept it around because of its alarm and its place in her routine. Her background wallpaper was a live picture of Ron, Harry and herself, taken right before Fleur’s and Bill’s first dance. It never failed to bring a smile to her face.

Still half asleep, she pulled up the blinds and headed to the kitchen. Crookshanks wasn’t going to feed himself on his own.

After making coffee and taking a quick shower to wake up completely, Hermione decided to walk to work. She usually biked her way to the office, as she lived close enough, but today was a rare occasion. That day marked another year living in Australia, so she took the excuse to get dressed fast and run out of the door. She had chosen her flat because it gave her enough freedom to walk or bike wherever she wanted to, given it was just a street shy of Hyde Park. 

Reviewing her daily plans on her way wasn’t a complicated task. There was rarely a good reason to change her routine, that consisted in those steps verbatim for five days a week. Luckily, she didn’t have to work on weekends, so she could devote them to research. Her schedule included going to work, grabbing some dinner with her parents and returning with time to spare to get some light reading done and her eight hours of beauty sleep. She had learned very early on her post-war life how important rest was, in particular for such a frantic reader like her. It was easier to absorb information with a well rested brain. 

Hermione’s smartphone proved itself useful. She had recently found out a music streaming app, and started dedicating a few minutes a day to find new Muggle artists to listen to on her path to work. While shuffling her playlists and turning around the corner, she faced her office’s building. The front was overall sand coloured bricks and huge windows, with black marble framing the main entrance. The coffee shop that was located on the ground floor, behind the crystal façade, looked deserted. Already knowing the answer, her eyes flickered upwards to check the time on the round clock that sat on top of the doors. 6:59 on the dot. With a shadow of a smirk, she walked through the entrance, towards the elevator, satisfied. 

The barrier between Muggle and Wizard Sydney was almost non-existant. There was a magical population in Australia, but not that big. They had a few residential neighbourhoods outside the city, and a little district in the city centre where one could do a bit of shopping or enjoy some cold butterbeer during the summer. So, back when she decided to move to Australia, it wasn’t a particular surprise when she learned that her soon-to-be new employers had decided to rent a fancy office in the middle of the Muggle side of the city. The magical district was too busy anyway, and this building was closer to the seaside. 

She sat down at her table and started to focus on work. She was in charge of the International Magical Office of Law division of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She was almost in charge of the international relationships of the Australian Ministry of Magic as a whole, since there weren’t many employees due to the small size of their community. After glossing over her paperwork for the day, she side-eyed the corridor, in desperate need of help with sorting her priorities. Her assistant, Zoe Sprout, vaguely related to her Herbology professor, was late again. 

“Surely your lateness wasn’t related to your Palace boyfriend, am I right?”, Hermione said teasingly right after Zoe rushed through the door, an hour and twenty minutes after clock-in time, well after she had started working.

“Obviously not, Mi”, her coworker mumbled as a faint shade of pink showed up on her cheeks. “Just so you know, I was showing the new guy around. I don’t need to remind you that Lucas is working again.” She left her purse on her desk and left her body drop loudly on her chair, arms crossed, pouting. 

The closest magic school was located in a Japanese island and resembled a castle. Zoe’s boyfriend was a professor there, hence the nickname of Palace boyfriend. When Lucas was overseas, she was almost Moaning Myrtle. When he was back in Australia, she turned into a Golden Retriever puppy. Fortunately for everyone involved, he came back every weekend, but a five-day wait was too much for Mrs. Sprout. In her own words, she was just young and in love. This rubbed Hermione the wrong way; she was only two years her senior.

“I didn’t know there was someone new joining us today. It’s not on my schedule.”

“He just transferred from Britain. Very shy bloke, good looking, didn’t say a word and looked like he was bored to death. I just had to introduce him to the building, really, since he’s going to be in the Research committee.” Looking at her boss, the gray haired girl smirked lightly and added, “You should take him out for coffee, Mi, he might as well be the only other brit around here.”

“I’m not taking anyone out for coffee. Being from the same country doesn’t mean we have anything else in common, Shrub”, she replied, rolling her eyes. The nickname made Zoe’s mood better, as always. “Now that you’re here, we should get to work. And when I say “we”, I mean you, since I’ve been working since I got here.”

“God, you take the fun out of _everything_. Shouldn’t you introduce yourself, at least? It must be impressive to become the Golden Girl’s coworker. Give him the chance to brag to his family and friends back home.”

“It’s not on my _schedule_ ,” Hermione claimed.

“Right. You’re so up yourself, Mi. You should ease off the tea and stop overworking yourself. Live a little,” her friend replied back, with a smug look upon her face. 

“I’m not having this conversation anymore. This is just, and I see you scoffing, my third cup of tea today. I’ve been very productive so far, thank you for asking.”

— — —

They worked together for a few hours, though Hermione found it hard to concentrate while continuing to bicker with Zoe through their shift. Their usual lunch hour was one o’clock sharp, and the instant the clock made it known it was time, they walked down the stairs. Today, their chatter was all about a new release from their favourite stationary store, on their way to the main entrance’s café. The assistant was super into bullet journalling, and her boss turned back to gel pens after school, happy to leave quills behind, so the girls hyped highlighters and A5 plain notebooks as much as the boys hyped up Quidditch in school. 

“Aren’t you curious about the new guy at all?”, the younger girl asked, grinning as she started hopping down the steps. She always got happier on lunch break, no matter how far away Prince boy was. 

“Not in the slightest! And watch your feet. That’s four _Episkeys_ this year.”

“Mi, you should give the bloke a fair go. He looked reserved but he’s probably just tired from the first day paperwork. He needs new friends, and I’m sure he’d be stoked to meet you.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t even know my name,” Hermione sighed, knowing there was no chance of that being true. If he was their age and from Britain, odds were he would recognize her on sight. At most, in Sydney wizards looked at her like they knew her from somewhere but couldn’t place where from.

“By the way, isn’t today the anniversary of your arrival here as well? It’s been so long, you’re almost a true Aussie. Let’s celebrate after work! I can do your hair.”

“I have plans tonight, Shrub,” she smiled as they neared the entrance. “I’m having dinner with my parents. The same old boring plan every year, I know. You’ll dread the fact that I also wear the same every time.” And there it was, Zoe’s signature groan. She hated her coworker’s fashion choices, claiming they did her no good.

As soon as both of them got to the cafeteria, Zoe left to find their table and Hermione rushed to the bar. She asked for a greens, eggs, avocado and quinoa bowl for herself; mascarpone, toasted nuts and berries on a brioche loaf for her friend, and iced water for both of them. The waitress winked at her and wished her a good day after putting the plates on a wooden tray. It took the Golden Girl two whole seconds to register what her eyes saw when she turned around.

Her assistant was sitting down at a new table, not their usual one. She waved at her, and then started talking to the man that was already there. Hermione didn’t need to see his face completely, as his back was three quarters turned to her and the countertop, but saw enough to recognize him. Muggle, wireless earphones on his head, his chin rested on his hand, he looked up to Zoe as she sat, with bored eyes but a polite smile on his face. He had round glasses on, probably to read whatever he was doing on a computer, and his blonde hair was slicked back in a very casual way, like it naturally grew that way.

He leaned back on his chair, and closed his laptop while putting away his earphones. His polite smile broke when he took a sip of his coffee, and their short conversation ended. Sprout looked up to gesture something to her, and then she realized she had frozen on the spot. Her curls behind her, she hurried up to the table, no longer truly in control of her actions. Her mind was racing when he turned around, setting his elbow on the back of his chair, looking at her general direction. 

The silence was deadly when she sat down. Zoe didn’t seem to realize, and grabbed her meal as she thanked her friend. Hermione looked at the guy in front of her in the eyes, and met a silver gaze that was staring right back at her. She remember that smug grin far too well for her own good. 

“Long time no see, Granger.”


	2. Boss

“What’s with the glasses, Malfoy?”

Golden frames around his eyes, he opened his mouth and closed it instantly. He didn’t realize he was still wearing them. His mouth was already opening in shock when his mind caught up with the situation. _Pull yourself together, Malfoy_. He had the art of putting a deadpan expression on down to perfection, so he decided to do just that.

“They’re for reading. I was checking my new contract when you two joined me.”

He saw a spark of surprise in her eyes before she managed to hide it. She was probably surprised he wasn’t cursing at her like he did years ago. _No, this time would be different._ His sharp tongue wouldn’t do him any good. This was supposed to be a fresh start, away from anyone that knew about him and his tainted last name. And yet, there he sat, a few centimetres away from the last person on Earth he wanted to meet.

Her fringe almost covered her hazelnut eyes, which appeared to be looking for something in his own eyes. This hairstyle reminded him too much of their first years in Hogwarts. Eye contact was physically and emotionally painful, so he averted his gaze and shifted it to the other person at the table. The same tiny, gray haired girl with black eyes and dimples along her smile that showed him around earlier sat across his seat. She was flickering her eyes between Granger and himself, and sounded cheerful as she spoke while stuffing her face with some sweet pastry. For Merlin’s sake, had she skipped lunch and gone straight for dessert? 

“I knew he was going to know who you are, boss! I told you so! This is perfect!”

“Sprout, this is not the time nor the place for your schemes. Did you plan this?” Granger said, with stern voice. 

A few seconds later, he realized she had spoken to him. Sporting his trademark smirk, he stated: “Not at all. I just transferred here to work on experimental potions.”

“Isn’t it suspicious that you ended up working on potions in my building?” 

“Are you mad, Granger?”, he sighed. This wasn’t going to be a nice conversation. “No one in the United Kingdom knows where you are, except for your friends. Do you think any of them ratted you out?” 

“I don’t doubt my friends. I’m sure you would have your... ways to know.” 

“Well, I don’t. Your public record shows you became an Unspeakable at the Department of Mysteries and started fixing the whole world. Needless to say, the secrecy level about that job position is unbeatable. Who would be stupid enough to try to follow you, if that were the case?” 

“Don’t ask me! How would I pretend to understand your intentions? This,” she said, moving her index finger between them, ”is just too much of a coincidence.”

“Look, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not the evil mastermind you expect me to be. I moved here to get a fresh start. You’re the last person I hoped to see.”

“Don’t be like that, new guy. What was your name again?” Zoe asked, not following the conversation. Startled, both of them looked at her, going bright red. They didn’t remember her existence during their bickering. She was coming back to the table after grabbing a second sweet dish. “What? Don’t look at me like that, Mi, you know I wouldn’t skip dessert.”

Exasperated, Granger smiled lightly and tried her best not to roll her eyes. “Enjoy your dessert, Shrub. Mr. Malfoy will be coming upstairs with me for a quick tour of our office. Feel free to enjoy two extra minutes, or ten.”

He didn’t reply. In fact, he was on his feet by the time she had said his name, sliding one hand along his hair as he grasped for air. It felt like he hadn’t been breathing at all since he turned around his chair. This wasn’t how he intended his first day to go. This wasn’t how he intended his new life to go. If someone had said he would be working with Granger of all people, he would’ve laughed; except now he wasn’t. What he was doing was following her to an elevator, not a sound around them, with a heavy heart and too many secrets to keep, feeling like he was about to explode. _This is bad_.

Granger had crossed her arms and started clocking his reactions from inside the elevator, with an arched eyebrow. He stood on the door, narrowing his eyes. She was wearing a burgundy turtleneck sweater and sleek, black pants, and her hair was down, styled the same way as it was during First Year but with better taken care of. Her face had changed a bit, and she looked grown-up. He took a few steps and stood on the elevator on silence, stone cold face still on. Silence was broken shortly after they started to move.

“The only think I’ll ask of you is to control yourself and do whatever fits within the bounds of our legal system, nothing more”, she said, refusing to look him in the eye.

Of _course_ that was how she saw him. He scoffed. Understandable. “It goes without saying, Miss Granger. Am I free to go now?” A subtle ring announced their arrival, and the doors opened. 

“I’m serious. I work in International Law, so I don’t have jurisdiction over Australian Aurors, but I will personally hunt you down if need be.” Her voice was ice cold as they stepped into her office. The decoration was dazzling, yet he didn’t have the time to appreciate it.

“I won’t be bothering you or your friends. I only moved here to stop being hunted by the ghosts of my family’s past actions. I’m willing to be asked under Veritaserum if you’d like. I don’t want anything to do with you.” 

He hoped she didn’t call his bluff. This detached persona he was performing wouldn’t be able to hold one drop of Veritaserum. Merlin on his side, she didn’t. Her shoulders stiffened, and she moved back, further into her office, to set her back on her bookcase. He closed his eyes and pressed his left thumb and index finger on his eyelids as he took a deep breath. _Last chance to get a clean beginning_. “On second thought, would you mind grabbing a coffee with me after work?”

“Don’t be daft, Malfoy. Why on Earth would I do so?” 

“I believe I owe you an apology, and I would rather have this conversation outside of your office, where your assistant will be waltzing inside like a fairy in a matter of seconds.”

Her eyes widened as she gawked at his face.

In a second, he understood, then, that she would never go anywhere with him willingly.

 _So be it._ He cast a quick _Muffliato_ and looked at her eyes. “Look, Granger, I was sick and twisted when we were younger. I was cruel to you, and you have every right to want me dead in a ditch for all you care. The one thing I wanted you to know is, I regret every word I said. To you,” he winced as he continued, ”to Potter, to the Weasleys; to everyone, as a matter of fact. I’ve been working very hard to better myself these past few years. I don’t want a second chance I know I don’t deserve. I just want to be left alone.” 

Silence took over until he heard steps outside.

“Ooh, what’s happening here? Making moves already on our very own Golden Girl?” sang a cute voice from the door frame.

His head turned round to meet Zoe’s eyes sparkling at her sight. With this, he realized he had moved towards Granger while speaking, and the two of them were now inside her office, door closed. 

She was against the bookcase, arms crossed and mouth ever so slightly open, looking confused, while he was standing just a bit less than a metre apart of her idle body. Sunlight travelled all over the room, and caressed his slim glasses, which had slid halfway to the tip of his nose. _Damn it, why did he still have them on?_

Hiding his discomposure, he pulled himself together. _Retreat_. Malfoy stepped back, spun on his feet to face the exit, and nodded his head. 

“Zoe, it’s been my pleasure. I look forward to working here. If you need anything, you’re free to call for me.” 

He almost ran to his new office, closing his door behind him. It was clear he couldn’t afford to get that close ever again. Feeling a sharp pain punching him between the ribs, he sat down and began pacing his breathing. Somehow, he managed to find the one memory he was escaping.

After all, she couldn’t know about his past: about his feelings during school, about his endless efforts to change prejudices he learned during his growing years, and about his current self. That possibility was out of the question. Years of weekly therapy, working through his issues, made it easier for him to open up; to slip up. 

To the rest of the world, he was still the same: cold-hearted, cunning, arrogant, unattainable. Slytherin through and through. His reputation wasn’t facing a change anytime soon if he had his way.

 _Empty your mind, Malfoy_ . “Retreat, breathe, and categorize, hide your thoughts”, he recalled Severus’ words, and mocked himself. His mentor would be up his arse if he saw how much anxiety affected him after the war. _Don’t let Bella’s efforts to teach you how to be a heartless bastard go to waste_ , he thought to himself while he started to practice Occlumency.

Pansy and Blaise would think this situation was hilarious. Seeing how he was in dire need of a good laugh, he grabbed his Muggle smartphone and decided to text them. Phones were one of the best discoveries he’d done while studying Muggle Studies, mandatory class for everyone during Seventh and Eighth Year, after the war. Every student from his year had gotten one, and learned how to text and call.

Following their class with some research, they found a way to create a groupchat. It was called Serpensortia, used only when something special was happening. Zabini preferred Flooing into everyone’s houses, unannounced, to share his day-to-day affairs. He couldn't really use that technique now that he was overseas, so it was bound to be used more starting now. Somehow blessed, his friends were the sort that stayed up all night, doing who knows what. 

D. (2:27 pm) You wouldn’t believe who my new boss is.

B. (2:28 pm) Let me guess. Potter’s long lost cousin? That’d be hilarious.

P. (2:28 pm) A Weasley-esque Australian boy?

B. (2:29 pm) Don’t even joke about that.

P. (2:30 pm) Did you disappear, blondie? Don’t leave us hanging!

P. (2:30 pm) I’m falling asleep waiting.

D. (2:31 pm) It’s Granger.

P. (2:31 pm) This is golden, Malfoy! You have to tell her!

B. (2:32 pm) He just moved there, Pans. Are you mad?

B. (2:32 pm) Aren’t there any single hot ladies in your area, Malfoy? 

B. (2:33 pm) Let’s go partying when I visit you. You’ll get over her for sure.

P. (2:33 pm) Don’t be a git, Zabini! 

P. (2:33 pm) He might have changed his mind about some stuff, but his feelings haven’t, and you know this! 

P. (2:34 pm) Do you want to see him sulking all the time like he did during school? 

The phone rang with a videocall, which he accepted in a heartbeat, thanking Merlin for being able to have his own office with no one around. Red-faced Pansy was frantic, shouting at the top of her lungs. It was an already lost battle, that much she knew, but she felt the need to fight it anyway. Blaise kept smirking, and chuckling at the girl’s ideas. 

Her last words for his day, her night, were: “I couldn’t care less about her job description! Granger might not be your literal boss, but you’re gonna see her everyday from now on. I’m not supporting your unrequited yearning any longer. Make a move or move on!”

————

Making good tea was the top event during the evenings in his new home. He rented a modest flat in central Sydney, and had been there for ten days before starting his job in the Ministery. No one had noticed him buying groceries, books, magical supplies for potions, home appliances. Not one nasty side eye, not one hurtful, “accidental” elbow to his ribs. 

The only thing between him and his dream, very much needed anonymous retirement was his former classmate. He sighed into his tea, holding the mug with his two hands. There was no chance of them becoming close, not now, not ever. He recognized the dread and the uneasiness in her eyes, and understood perfectly why those emotions were there. However, that setback wouldn’t spoil this new experience.

During the summer he would go surfing all day and lay down under palm trees; he would spend his salary on sunscreen so he wouldn’t turn into a freckled tomato. During the winter he could just take an international Portkey home to Malfoy Manor if he was feeling homesick, and read his childhood books with a cuppa in his hands. Life in Australia wouldn’t be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the hits, kudos and bookmarks! i haven't shared this fic anywhere so every single one of them mean a lot to me. constructive criticism is always welcome! feel free to drop a comment or two.


	3. The 7th Sense

Uneasiness had started to evaporate after the first few days. No longer looking for the lightest shade of platinum blonde known to mankind, Hermione almost considered life was back to normal. It was now Monday morning, and she was turning up to work at exactly 6:59 again. Pleased, she smiled to herself. Her routine had wavered long enough.

Zoe had been pestering around, fishing for information about their background story, and had not been happy with “we went to the same school and we didn’t get along”. She suspected something deeper was the issue, since her boss was never this cold to anyone. It made her wary of the new guy, and very protective of Hermione. It got to a point where during the weekend, Lucas, her assistant’s boyfriend, had to apologize on her behalf. That day, Zoe showed up early to work, tea for both of them in hand, trying to make amends for her tantrums.

Harry and Ron had taken the news unexpectedly well. They had turned to text her all day, everyday. Sometimes their texts were short and sweet, wishing her a good day or telling her about their investigations. Other times, they were long, angry, the two of them ranting about how unfair it was for her to have to endure “the stupid Ferret” after so long. 

No matter how much she told them she wouldn’t have to work with him, or how she had failed to see him again, or recalled his succint apology, they just couldn’t understand. Her best friends hadn’t been there when he looked at her through his reading glasses and opened up for the first time in… well, just the first time. Gray, tired eyes that looked like they’d seen a ghost, waiting for a reply that never came to be.

Sighing, she sat down on her office chair and began her daily work. Sure, she regretted not being able to come back to her senses fast enough. Zoe screeched when she told her, as if she hadn’t been the one that interrupted the conversation. Shock had run through Hermione’s body, and she still wasn’t completely over it all. 

When she thought back, the whole situation felt like a fever dream, like it was something that had only happened between hope and reality. She frowned at her cup of tea, as the edges of her lips started pointing down.

“Snap out of it, Mi!”, her friend mumbled as she dropped a stack of papers on her desk. “It’s been a week and a half. Why do you still look heartbroken?”

“Do you even know how to knock on the door?”

“Don’t take it out on me! You’re the one that scared him off!”

 _Ouch_. Truth hurts. Hermione was glad her fringe had gotten out of control and covered her eyes, as they were red half of the time. It was hard to accept that, when it mattered, her know-it-all status failed her. Over the last ten days, she had cried over everything: starting the first three, she sobbed on the phone with Ginny after the dinner with her parents. 

They talked mostly about how she couldn’t accept his apology. For the Weasley girl, it was obvious that she couldn’t: he was right, he had been an arsehole for years, and he didn’t deserve a second chance. For the Granger girl, it sucked that she couldn’t acknowledge his seemingly new and honest remorse. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to refuse all contact with him, but the redhead wasn’t having any of it. Hermione continued to text her about work and how much she thought of his words, sparing her details like how sad he looked when he stared into her eyes, but refused to keep talking about it out loud, since it made her cry. 

For the next four days, she complained about how unfair it was that he got to start over while she would always be the Golden Girl. She also looked forward to a clean beginning when she moved to Australia, but she hadn’t get one. Granted, half of her motives to move included her parents and having discovered a charm to heal their memories, but leaving fame behind would’ve been a great plus of relocating half the world away from home.

Homesickness was the current trending topic on her grumbling. Of course she realized how much she missed home and her friends. However, she hadn’t taken into consideration how alone she felt knowing her only close link to the United Kingdom nowadays was the one boy that made her life impossible in school. Zoe was adorable, but could never reminisce about Dumbledore’s Army’s secret meetings with her, or gossip about Hogwarts rumours.

Lunch time came sooner than usual that day, even though time flowed like it always did. She stopped, instinctively, at the end of her usual staircase stroll with Zoe, who went to sit down at their usual table, not realizing her friend, stranded in the landing. 

A quarter of a minute went by before she realized Malfoy was sitting in a high stool near the countertop of the café. Equipped with both earphones and glasses, he didn’t seem to notice her presence until he glanced at his watch. 

Grabbing his phone ( _why did he even have one?_ ) to check the time again, his pupils got bigger and he looked at the stairs landing where she was standing. He straightened his back, and put up a half smile, gesturing with tiny movements of his head to the stool by his side. 

Before she could stop herself, she rolled her eyes while she walked over to the counter. Ginny would kill her without mercy if she knew she was about to engage with a Malfoy on her own accord. Merlin save her, given the case the redhead ever found out about this endeavour, but she couldn’t refuse, even though it felt like every single word could backfire against her anytime.

“I didn't take you for a smartphone guy, Malfoy.”

“Why, yes, thank you, Granger. I am quite well indeed, and have adapted to my new job position easy enough. How about you?”

On the verge of chuckling, Hermione responded, “Quit the pleasantries, Malfoy. Both of us know you wouldn’t stand more than five minutes of small talk. Do you need anything or were you just trying to be bothersome?”

“I happen to need your help. My boss needs me to gather some, let’s say, peculiar ingredients for his next project. We have to review how far we can push the legality of these special components making their way into the country, therefore he asked to check with you. He made it known that customs laws pertain to your department?”

“Try contacting my coworker, Zoe Sprout. I assume you remember her. She will handle any enquiries for me.”

“I already tried contacting your assistant, but she is reluctant to help me, to say the least.” One of his eyebrows raised, and his mouth turned into a thin line.

“So you say. I will look into this misconduct issue.” She turned her harsh look at Zoe, who waved at her, apparently not aware of the nightmare of a meeting she was about to face.

“Should I send another magical memo to your office, or maybe we could try texting, if you have a phone? It seems much more convenient,” he said, as he offered his phone to her with one hand, “considering your assistant can’t burn those down to ashes.”

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest, incredulous to the whole conversation. “Why do you even have one of these, anyway?” 

“Muggle Studies assignment.” He stopped, as if that clarified everything, but continued when she didn’t reply. “Truth be told, only the class was mandatory but this was the one useful object we ever got to study.”

“Right.” 

Malfoy rose, indicating he was leaving. “I understand if you don’t want to give me your contact information. I will deliver my questions in person from now on, to ensure they don’t disappear again.”

“No, no, it’s alright. You don’t have to show up. Here.” As she grabbed his phone, she offered hers. “Give me your number as well.”

————

Their eyes started meeting from then on.

Admittedly, most of the times they saw each other was during lunch time. He always rose to leave as soon as Zoe sat and Hermione turned to the counter, but his eyes lingered on hers, for a split second, and longer each day. 

She noticed a curious pattern in his behaviour. The scattered days he messaged her about updates on Australian law on the early morning, he half-smiled as he waited for the elevator. Maybe he thought no one would see as he turned his back to the café, with his phone on his hands. She started wondering about his earphones, forever ready on his lugs, and the kind of music he listened to, if he did at all.

Online texting was not his forte. To be fair, so wasn’t regular chatting, most likely. He kept to himself, never engaging in petty commentary or senseless conversation. Short sentences, straight to the point and flawlessly professional; nothing personal ever transpired between them. However, she still got giddy when his name popped up on her locked screen. Ginny’s theory indicated that it was because the event of thinking of themselves as just coworkers, instead of enemies, becoming standard seemed far away.

A few weeks after their last real life chat, they had talked maybe five days in total. It’s not like she was keeping count. Zoe was. She had noticed the lack of memos to burn, and her boss felt compelled to tell her the truth.

“Here I thought the new bloke was just a git, but I guess he’s just alright after all? I’m a bit confused.”

“So am I, Shrub. Let’s just say our relationship is cordial at best, and leave it at that. Not friends but also not enemies anymore.”

“Whatever you say, Mi. My bets are on him fancying you. Lucas doesn’t support this idea but I’m sure your best friend would.”

The mere thought was repulsive for Ginny, of course, but she did find their texting amusing. The mental image of Malfoy struggling to use a grandpa phone with big buttons on its keypad made her friend cry from laughter, no matter how much she explained that wasn’t the case.

Harry and Ron weren’t updated about the Ferret situation. Hermione knew, no matter what she said, they would freak out if they knew. No one could understand their dynamic to the fullest, not even her. Were they friends? They didn’t talk about personal matters, but he looked at her “ _like, very intensely_ ” per Zoe’s words. Therefore, there was no reason to worry them. She was pretty sure Ginny gossiped with Harry about most Malfoy advances, anyway.

————

Hermione’s routine never went back to normal, after all.

As days turned into weeks, the cold started getting to Sydney. Sunlight hours were alright, but mornings and late nights grew cooler every day. Her parents offered countless sleepovers at their house, so she wouldn’t feel alone in her flat. She didn’t: Crookshanks was good company. Regardless, she took up a few of their invites, since any excuse to meet them was good enough. They lived in the magical suburbs, so her commute to work took longer, and her goal of clocking in at 7:00 on the dot faded away.

Instead, she found ways to _not_ get to her office at 7 o’clock sharp, even when she was staying at her own place. Curiosity had gotten the better of her. Academic curiosity, of course. Her new research project was Malfoy’s routine. Getting to work later than usual allowed her to examine his habits: he got there by 7:10, and stood before the glass entrance, eyeing the café’s menu for the day as he got his earphones out and glasses on. 

Sometimes, he would meet an older gentleman and share a lighter for their smokes, as they engaged in small talk before heading inside. One could only assume that was his boss, who she had never met. She sat inside, warm tea on her hands, while watching him interact with people through the crystal windows of the buildings. 

On the rare occasion when their eyes met in the early morning, half indigo half rosy sky above them, she nodded lightly and pretended to keep on reading. Her fringe and her cup of tea helped conceal the way pink shades creeped up from her neck, from the embarrassment of being caught. There was no other possible explanation about her heart skipping a beat as well. Over her book, she could see how his polite smile started turning into a smug grin, wider each day they exchanged glances. 

Everyone around her thought her new hobby was reading a bit before going to her office, to warm up with a hot beverage because of the cold temperatures before sun rising. The latest she had gotten to work had been 7:03, before the Potions new starter joined them. Now, her record sat on 7:22. Zoe raised her eyebrows the only day she had arrived later than her assistant, but knew better than saying anything and risking another meeting about misconduct.

They had reached the end of July when her schedule stabilized. She would arrive at the building at 6:59 am, as per tradition now, but she wouldn’t start working until 7:16 am. Her assistant never brought her tea anymore, yet smirked at her when she crossed the elevator doors. Cheeky little thing, Hermione thought, knowing her friend had started texting Ginny to get more _tea_ , as Sprout called it, on Malfoy. Ashen eyed, nicotine addict, cordial-but-not-friendly Malfoy. She decided to text her friend back on her way, after tucking her keys inside her bag.

G. (3:25 am) you’re playing with fire, granger

H. (6:55 am) It certainly feels like that, Gin. But I need to find out if he’s changed for real.

G. (6:57 am) let’s just say i’m warning you

G. (6:57 am) you shouldn’t be doing this

G. (6:57 am) and you’re losing control

H. (6:58 am) Merlin’s beard... What are you talking about?

G. (6:58 am) sure, hun

G. (6:59 am) shrub said you’re late 

G. (6:59 am) almost everyday! red flag baby

G. (6:59 am) I’m already at work. I’m just enjoying tea beforehand.

G. (7:00 am) isn’t tea at home and tea at the office enough

G. (7:03 am) don’t blush princess

G. (7:06 am) mioneeee

G. (7:10 am) are you crushing on the ferret

G. (7:10 am) you have to tell your best friend

G. (7:11 am) shrub thinks he’s into you for sure

G. (7:12 am) what do ya think about that huh

G. (7:16 am) is he there already 

G. (7:17 am) tell him i said hi


	4. Touch

_Monday morning_

D. (7:11 am) She’s here, again.

P. (7:11 am) Will you ignore her? Please don’t. Wink at her!

B. (7:13 am) I must say, I find the stalking amusing. Karma’s a bitch.

D. (7:13 am) Who’s Karma?

B. (7:14 am) Let’s leave it at, you had this coming.

P. (7:16 am) Please say something to her.

P. (7:16 am) She’s chasing you, and that’s obvious.

P. (7:17 am) Aren’t you tired of making her think you don’t see her?

D. (7:19 am) I’m not trying to scare her away. 

B. (7:20 am) You’d take any crumbs she gives you, blondie.

B. (7:21 am) Where’s your snake spirit, boy?

P. (7:21 am) If you tried like you did in school, she’d be yours!

B. (7:23 am) Just like you were, Pans?

P. (7:23 am) You’re an idiot, Zabini.

_Wednesday morning_

P. (7:02 am) Is she there today?

B. (7:05 am) Relax, your Majesty. He shouldn’t be there yet.

P. (7:05 am) I can’t take this anymore, Zabini.

B. (7:06 am) You can come and get this anytime, darling.

P. (7:06 am) Are you barmy?

P. (7:07 am) I’m talking about the Granger situation, obviously, you git!

P. (7:09 am) Should I text her? I’m sure I could find her number quick.

D. (7:10 am) If you want to end our lifelong friendship, I suggest finding other methods that don’t prompt me to take your life.

D. (7:11 am) I’ll meet her eyes today, if that pleases you.

P. (7:12 am) It’s not enough!

B. (7:13 am) Come on, Parkinson. Compromise.

P. (7:13 am) This isn’t a game. 

P. (7:14 am) Courting is serious business, and I recognize game when I see it.

D. (7:16 am) The mere idea of Granger courting me is ridiculous.

D. (7:16 am) You’ve got me laughing again, looking like a dimwit. 

P. (7:17 am) Don’t be a wanker! Just admit you’re just happy you saw her again!

_Thursday morning_

D. (9:00 am) Is the treaty between the Australian Ministry of Magic and the MACUSA concerning defense trade cooperation still active?

D. (9:01 am) Meaning, how much paperwork would I have to fill in order to import some Acromantula venom?

D. (9:03 am) Also, my boss needs to know if there’s a trustworthy source to purchase Moondew poison nearby. Would you happen to have any contacts?

H. (9:15 am) Yes, it’s still active. For venomous ingredients, that’s roughly between 5 and 10 compliance and responsibility dossiers, two screening procedures and a very expensive import fee. Are you sure you can’t get it from inside the country?

H. (9:17 am) I will ask around for information on that poison and where to acquire it.

D. (9:18 am) Thank you. It’s a specific Acromantula’s venom so it won’t work out. I’m stuck with the endless records. 

H. (9:19 am) On one condition, I can give you a head start.

H. (9:21 am) I will print everything you need, and you can treat my assistant to coffee. 

H. (9:22 am) She insists you meet us for lunch again.

H. (9:23 am) Also, she says hello.

D. (9:30 am) Of course, I get the better end of the deal.

D. (9:30 am) See you there. One in the afternoon, as always, I presume.

H. (9:31 am) As always, may I ask?

—

D. (9:32 am) I’m a fucking idiot.

D. (9:32 am) Screenshot attached for your entertainment.

P. (9:32 am) YOU HAVE A DATE???????

D. (9:33 am) Of course that’s the one thing you notice.

D. (9:34 am) Didn’t you read it all? Her coworker wanted to meet me. It’s not a date.

P. (9:35 am) YOU’RE GRABBING LUNCH WITH HERMIONE GRANGER

D. (9:35 am) With Granger's assistant, mind you.

D. (9:35 am) And now she knows I’ve noticed her schedule.

D. (9:36 am) Maybe even thinks I stalk her.

P. (9:37 am) WHAT ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW

Lunchtime couldn’t get there soon enough. His hands fidgeted, and revived his bad habit of touching his hair countless times during the wait. In the end, he decided to go downstairs earlier. That was his routine anyway: going ahead of time, having brunch (since it didn’t count as lunch) and heading back upstairs before she got there. Was he just trying to save face? Maybe he was afraid of any possible backlash, or it was painful to sit in the same space as his former classmate.

However, he was _aching_ for interaction of any sort. Desperate for attention, as Zabini would say. Embarrassing as it might be, it was the hard truth. Malfoy didn’t think himself worthy of her time, yet he craved it. Stolen glances at early morning were his favourite pastime nowadays; everyday, without fail, it would make him smile. 

The best days were those on which he got to text her some meaningless thing about law. Not that he cared that much about them, but they were the only reason he had to talk to her. He did his best not to overstep, staying professional and silent after work hours. No distraction could make him forget about how that phone felt like fire after 5 pm. The fact that he couldn’t call her casually to ask about her day pained him, but it was his own past choices what made their relationship so fucked up.

So impressionable by his parents and the Dark Lord’s influence over them. So misguided by their bigotry, their not-so-subtle racist ways, their prejudices disguised as _“tradition”_. He scoffed. Tradition was peer pressure from the dead, after all. And he was well and alive, with just a wounded pride, a lifelong crush on the girl he bullied in high school and a stupid left arm he hated with a passion. 

Things were changing, though. Therapy made him a better man, no longer a child living for the thought of pursuing his father’s dream. The deceptions he was led to believe didn’t poison his heart anymore, and he’d fled the house that haunted him and didn’t let him sleep. And he’d paid for it: most of his friendships ended the day he fought against their ideals, yet the sadness was manageable. His father’s face twisted by disgust was endurable. His mother’s tears the day he announced he was leaving, he accepted. All of that led to his new chapter.

Australia. With his favourite season slipping away, he only had one month until winds stopped and made place for warmer temperatures. He had to make August count; had to stop wasting time. He remembered her phone wallpaper: Granger, dressed like a princess, sporting a scarlet dress while dancing with Potter and the Weasel. Ignoring his shivers down his spine as he thought of the two boys, he pictured her, smiling wide and looking carefree. That peace was what he wanted to accomplish. 

As his office’s clock chimed at noon, he grabbed his phone and notified his boss he would be heading down for lunch and also discussing some law stuff with Granger, so he could be late. _Hopefully_. The older man nodded without looking up from his cauldron, and Malfoy took his cue to leave in silence.

For a Thursday, the silence in the café was almost uncanny. Not a soul was present, and the sun entered through the tall windows, brushing every surface available. He sat down on a stool at the counter and ordered some chamomile tea, the real reason why he went downstairs earlier than their agreed schedule. His fingers were shaky as he grabbed the cup, trying to drown his nerves and insecurities. 

As soon as he tasted the tea on his lips, he heard someone walking towards the café. He rolled his eyes, not wanting the quietude to be broken, and adjusted his glasses as he turned to nod in a polite manner. 

“Seems like we had the same idea.”

Granger stood two seats away, almost smiling and studying him from behind her fringe. Malfoy sat there, half twisted around, dumbfounded and unprepared for any kind of conversation. She decided to sit alongside him, and ordered another chamomile tea.

“Looks like it.” _Is this you doing your best, Malfoy? Pathetic._

“I brought your papers. I can call Zoe, if you want, and get this over with.”

“Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you agree to this meeting because my assistant wanted to share a coffee with you?” His lips parted, as she continued, “She has a boyfriend, though, so I’m not too sure on how well that works for you.”

He closed his mouth, not far from angry, and frowned. Surely she didn’t think he’d go out of his way for her assistant? 

“Penny for your thoughts?” her voice rang, with a hint of... something in it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was a tiny bit concerned.

Her eyes looked for something in his own. As Pansy would say, he recognized game when he saw it; he was the one looking for something inside her eyes every time. Was she looking for a polite exit?

“You can call your assistant if you want.”

She sighed. “Let me send her a note.”

Granger left his papers on the board and cut a corner of a sheet to memo her friend. She folded the paper into a crane bird figure, and took out her wand to send it upstairs. Meanwhile, Malfoy stared, starry-eyed and starting to blush. _Occlumens, you idiot. Or you’ll lose the battle already._

“To be honest, I’d rather you didn’t,” he said, gently, “send the note. To your friend.” 

“Are you alright?”

“Would you let me take you out for lunch?” Even before finishing the question, he got up.

“Sure?” She stuttered. “I mean, are you sure?” She was starting to change colours.

“We don’t have to be strangers...” 

“We aren’t. We are ex schoolmates.”

“...And I only came here today because I wanted to see you, not your friend.” 

His companion drew a deep breath in and got on her feet, her cheeks now rosy. 

“You’re impossible to deal with. Shall we go?”

Happy that he got that one out of his system, he nodded, his expression not moving one bit. Not only he got to say that out loud, but it also seemed to work. After agreeing on a seaside place, she rewrote Zoe’s memo saying “I will be late. I will bring cake as a peace offering. Maybe call Lucas on your break today?” and he felt like he could dance on his toes.

———

As they stood on the restaurant’s porch, waiting to be seated, she decided to break the ice. 

“I assume this isn’t about paperwork anymore.”

“I’d say your assumptions are correct.”

“What’s going on? I thought I would catch you dead before having lunch with, well, someone like me.”

“Let’s just say I've changed my ways.” 

“Merlin’s beard, I find myself almost buying it.”

“You remember the paper cranes.” 

Raising her hands to rearrange her fringe, she feigned ignorance and looked at the menu, mouth completely shut.

“Such a cliché thing to do, to use a little habit from high school against me.” He pressed the question, knowing it was a dead end. 

“They’re cute. Zoe loves them.”

“So you admit you were doing it to prove a point.”

“I’d like, let’s say, this thing,” she pointed at the menu without looking, “whatever it’s called. And a mimosa.” 

He turned to the waiter and added, “May I please have the same dish with a Japanese Slipper, thank you.”

“It’s only Thursday, Malfoy. We’re expected back at the Ministry in 45 minutes as well.”

Silent, he looked at her over the rim of his glasses. Then, he smiled as he held a glass of water. Not smirking, not forcing it. His index finger played along the edge of the glass, waiting for her to say something, anything else. To make him forget he needed that drink to make it through the lunch without his heart bursting open. But she didn’t, so he mustered the first thing that came to mind.

“Didn’t even notice.”

“Sure. Did post traumatic stress disorder make you an alcoholic?”

Trying to play it cool, he retorted, “Can you blame me?”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t. Not anymore.”

There it was. Admission of guilt on his part, and admission of forgiveness on hers. No witty comeback came to him, so he decided to start eating as soon as the waiter gave them their dishes and beverages. Her arms, that were previously crossed before her chest, moved to grab her fork, as she said: “Look, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Excuse me?”

“The War. We don’t have to mention it. Both of us came here to start anew. I should’ve known better than shoving your traumas on your face during our first real conversation.”

Raising a hand to ask for another drink, he laid on the back of the chair as he chugged his first one. The fact that she considered his feelings enough to be that kind about their past was funny enough to make his lips turn upwards. However, his amusement came to an end too fast for his liking.

“I have trouble sleeping,” she started. _Don’t say it_. 

“I also retorted to drinking my nightmares away, but I got over it quickly. I had panic attacks for years. Cried myself to sleep.” _Stop it._

“Distanced myself from everyone our age except Harry and Ron. In the end I decided to see a Mind Healer. It was too much.”

“ _Shit_ , Granger!” His cold persona was falling apart. “I meant it when I said I don’t deserve a second chance. I already know that the War, all the Malfoys included, fucked everything up. I’m very sorry, about all of it.” 

Her arms stretched to touch the hand that wasn’t holding his glass, and his shaking got better for a second. “Don’t blame this on yourself, _Malfoy_. Harry told us you couldn’t kill the Headmaster. I know you refused to identify him in the Manor. Don’t get me started on your mother during the Battle of Hogwarts.” 

“You still hate me, though.” His eyes couldn’t meet hers. “And I understand. I didn’t do anything to stop my aunt.”

Alcohol was getting to his mind. When he looked up after what felt like two hours of absolute silence, her arms were crossed on her chest again. No more Occlumency for him. This one was a chance to get it over with. Once their eyes met, she withdrew her hands. _Fuck._

“Are you pulling my leg?” 

“Are you pulling MY leg? Could you please take me seriously, Granger? I’m trying to do the damn right thing here!”

“Sorry, let me rephrase: are you an idiot?”

“Would you, please, stop insulting me and just say your piece?”

“If you must know, I don’t hate you. Like I said, I blamed you for a long time for what happened at the Manor, but I don’t any longer. You were a terrorized child, and I can tell that you’ve changed in a good way. Never did I think you would be caught having lunch with a Muggleborn witch. So, I believe you’re reformed. I don’t feel any hatred towards you right now, especially if you pay for dessert.” 

Her hair was glowing under the winter sun. He could see her eyes darting behind him, looking at the sea. She was trying to end the conversation in a casual way, but there was something he needed to ask first. “And what do you...?” Even though his words slipped off his tongue without much of a thought, this one question had lingered on his mind for some time.

“Excuse me?” She looked like a deer in caught in headlights.

“What do you feel towards me right now?”

Her face looked like a deer caught in headlights, but she cackled like a witch. “Aren’t you getting a bit too comfortable, Malfoy?”

“Thought I would try my luck, you know. I find you amusing. Your mimosa hasn’t even affected you the way I thought it would.” _Tsk._

“How do we walk away from this lunch? Are we coworkers, or are we friends?”

“We’re ex classmates.” He smirked.

“Git.” She hit his leg with the point of her shoe.

“Ow! Look, we can be whatever you want, Granger. I’ll give you that much.”

Without missing a beat, she batted her eyelashes. “Whatever I want? Don’t you think that could backfire?” 

“Here I was, thinking I was doing you a favour by letting you choose. Did you think I would beg for your friendship?” He would, though... 

“Don’t push it, Ferret! You’re an arse.” 

“Anything for Gryffindor’s Princess.” He mockingly bowed as they rose from their chairs, knowing she’d be glaring when he searched for her gaze. The mere idea of their lunch coming to an end made him dizzy. “I’ll head back to the office now. Don’t forget to pick up cake for your friend, you promised.”

“Sure. Zoe would be pissed if I didn’t remember. Do you think they have red velvet cake here? It’s her favourite...”

“When I said I’ll let you choose the kind of relationship we can have, it was for real. Think about it. You should be the one setting the limits, anyway. Can I confide one last thing before I go?” 

“No questions asked, Malfoy.”

“I know you don’t like me but I can’t stop myself from talking to you. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

A drunken confession, for sure. Words he could, and most surely would, be embarrassed about tomorrow morning. Yet it felt good to admit it out loud, and he’d take any piece of relief he could get. He run a hand through his hair as he left to get the check, paying Zoe’s cake forward. As he turned to say goodbye, her face matched the colour of said dessert. And just for a moment, it almost felt like they were friends.

Needless to say, he was pleased beyond measure that afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you see me quoting some pop music lyrics, humour me! they're my biggest inspiration for this fic, and the only thing giving me direction.   
> as always, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! thanks for reading!


	5. Limitless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the longest author note is waiting for you guys at the end of the chapter! things are spicing up! meanwhile, enjoy the playlist i made for everyone to listen as soon as hermione meets up with zoe to go out after dinner: https://spoti.fi/3mQGBRh

Hermione Jean Granger needed a date.

More specifically, Ginny Weasley had told her she needed to date. As in going out with anyone, in order to get fresh air. Code words meaning: to stop obsessing over certain blonde bloke. But how could she? As if her memories weren’t enough, Zoe had started calling him her English love affair after they had “a date” according to both Sprout and Weasley and “just lunch” according to Granger. “Too bad you guys didn’t meet in May!” was her new catchphrase, whatever that meant.

Spring arrived to town, and as her birthday got closer, her gray-haired friend insisted on going out. Lucas would be back home to a needy Zoe, and her parents were out of town for a business meeting in Perth, so she had no excuse not to go. Her friends were avid fans of clubbing, so there was no way she was getting out of the plans.

However, for the past four weeks, the only thing in her mind had been Malfoy. Their lunch, and his words, lingered behind her ears every minute of the day. Why had she said “no questions asked”, anyway? No one would answer them now, even if she asked. She for sure hadn’t asked him anything, although she knew it was on her. Hell, they didn’t even talk that much. 

She wanted to let him know that she liked him. Not like that, but it wasn’t that she didn’t like him. Well, she didn’t like _like_ him. Did she? No, she didn’t. But she liked him enough for him to be able to talk with her. When he said she didn’t like him, her heart dropped for half a second until she focused on the idea of him being unable to stop himself from talking to her, a thought that made her stomach flip with anticipation. There was nothing to anticipate, though. So, there’s that.

Her routine was now aligned with his, and they got to the Ministry at the exact same time. Nowadays, he arrived at 7 o’clock with two cups of chamomile tea and drank them together with Zoe, who despised tea and was just happy to be invited, and Hermione, who needed it to have a conversation without her brain nitpicking every word that came out of his mouth. Once a week, he would join them for lunch if Zoe asked, but he kept to himself after early morning’s tea in front of the office except for the rare text during the day.

Five days before her birthday, looking up from a pile of paperwork, she called for her assistant and said, “Shrub, I need your help. Ginevra said I should look into dating to… get to know someone new?”

“Oh? Are you saying you’re finally following my advice to meet some fine young Australian men? Or women? I don’t mind.” Dancing around her desk, Zoe pulled out her smartphone. This was one of the things she most wanted to do, ever since they met. “What took you so long, Mi? Let me show you some of my single friends. Or would you rather meet Muggles? I know of a dating app for your phone…”

Shaking her head as she laughed, Hermione added, “No, no. Not strangers. Show me your friends, Zoe, I know you’ve been waiting for this opportunity.”

Half an hour went by as they swiped through pictures of her coworker’s mates. Both of them were red from laughter, as her friend introduced potential suitors by telling stories about them as if they were fighting for her hand in marriage, and had settled on (and texted) a couple of people “worthy of Mi’s attention”, per Zoe’s words. 

One of them, a half-blood wizard called Noah Woodberg, replied to her message right away, saying he would pick her up from work to grab coffee. Apparently, he’d heard everything about her already, so it was bound to be an interview more than a date. Before heading out, Hermione transfigured her clothing to be trendier instead of the usual clean look she wore to work. Eye-covering fringe in place, as she got closer to the exit, she saw the specific shade of almost-white blonde she’d been not quite avoiding.

He was resting one shoulder on the door frame, one foot in front of the other, loosening his tie with his left hand as he typed something on his phone with his right one. Lost in thought, Malfoy didn’t see her approaching the gates. Only when she moved past him and mumbled a soft goodbye he lifted his eyes and shifted to face her, leaning on the window front of the building as he crossed his arms. 

“Oi, Granger! Heading home already?” 

“Oh, uhm, yeah.” Startled, she stayed still. 

“So strange, the sight of you not working overtime.”

“A habit that would be good for you somedays, should it pass on to you.”

“Turns out I’m perfectly capable of finishing my tasks on time. A habit that would be good for you, everyday.”

As she rolled her eyes and he started smirking, an unknown hand grabbed her by the shoulder, making Hermione frown. Zoe’s friend, Noah, was the owner of said hand. 

“Hermione! Good to see you!”, he said, as he nodded to both Granger and Malfoy and refocused his attention to her. “How ya doin’? Are ya ready?”

It took her a split second to recognize the icy voice that was speaking. “Granger. I didn’t realize I was stopping you from any plans.” 

“Malfoy, this is Noah, a friend of Zoe’s. Noah, this is Malfoy, Experimental Potions’ new resident.”

“Nice to meet ya, mate. Shall we get going?”

Hermione looked back at Malfoy’s eyes, that now appeared darker for whatever reason.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.” 

“See you around, boss,” nodded Malfoy, still as a statue.

“Cheers!”, her casual goodbye escaped her mouth as forced as her smile was.

Something about his farewell didn’t sit right with her. That wasn’t the most pressing matter at the moment, though. Turning to Noah, Hermione graced him with a warm smile and decided she wasn’t going to be embarrassed by going on a date. So this would have to be fun. There was no way she was going back to the office next day and declared her date a bore.

They sat in a nearby café, right in front of Hyde Park. It was located in the rooftop of a Muggle museum, which Hermione appreciated, and they could see the green area in its entirety and a neighbouring cathedral. Having to work surrounded by non-wizard people, acting normal was a given everyday in order not to break the Statute of Secrecy. 

Conversation was okay, but wasn’t her main focus of attention. That spot was saved for Noah’s curly dark hair and some scattered cute freckles along his cheeks and nose. Tan skin (he surfed even during winter, he would for sure be a Gryffindor as well) and a slight mint fragrance coming off his semi-open shirt, the guy was cute alright. Odds weren’t in her favour, and no romantic spark ignited between her new Aussie friend during their first date. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun.

In the end, they decided to exchange phone numbers and a flimsy kiss on Hermione’s face. It didn’t make her knees weak, but it was nice to unwind and have an enjoyable evening with a handsome lad. She updated both Ginny and Zoe about the date, and headed home for a well deserved cup of tea and some cuddles with Crookshanks. 

N. (7:22 pm) I had heaps of fun today, Hermione!

N. (7:23 pm) Let’s have dinner on Thursday?

H. (7:26 pm) Sure!

N. (7:27 pm) Sick! I’ll ask around for nice places.

H. (7:28 pm) I’m fine with anything. 

N. (7:30 pm) Alright!

—

H. (7:45 pm) I don’t know, Gin.

H. (7:45 pm) How did you know Harry was the one?

G. (7:47 pm) merlin, it’s too early for this, hermione

G. (7:48 pm) i didn’t know after the first date, for godric’s sake

G. (7:48 pm) just have fun!

—

Z. (8:45 pm) He likes you tons, Mi!

Z. (8:45 pm) I hear you’re going on a second date like, three days after the first one?

Z. (8:46 pm) Glad to hear everything worked out, haha.

H. (8:46 pm) He’s good looking and fun, so why not? 

Z. (8:47 pm) That’s the spirit!

———

For the next three days, Hermione was a jumble of emotions. Malfoy had stopped showing up to their morning tea, and wasn’t present sitting next to the café’s countertop when both her and her assistant went down the stairs for lunch at one o’clock. Her brain went from “I don’t care” to “what if someone kidnapped him” nonstop. 

The fact that there was no actual way for her to figure out what was happening in his mind was nerve wracking, so she tried to forget by chatting up Noah. Three days of non-stop texting outside of office hours helped her look forward to their next date.

So, she didn’t think about him when Noah showed up fifteen minutes late to the restaurant of his choice, and forgot to apologize, brushing it off instead. She didn’t think about him when Noah compared her hair to a lion’s mane, and then winked an eye in order to make it look playful. She didn’t think about him when Noah ordered apple pie as dessert for them to share, or when he lifted his fork to give her some to try. She didn’t think about him when Noah picked up the tab and told her not to think about it as he threw one arm over her shoulder. She didn’t think about him when she thanked Merlin for making Noah taller than her, as his hug comforted her from the cold air as they walked out. 

Before she noticed, they were on the steps of her building’s entrance hall. More than just tipsy from Noah’s choice of local Cabernet Sauvignon, she was cracking up at a comment about tea leaves predicting their meeting, but not for the reasons he believed. Under the moonlight, their curls looked the same auburn shade, and focusing on that distracted her from her dizziness. What it didn’t distract her from was her friend lightly pressing her cheek with a tight kiss on the corners of her mouth, and saying he would text her again soon.

After changing into a silk pyjama set, she climbed on top of her bed as soon as she could, petting her cat and giving him a treat. With a flick of her wand, ice cream appeared by her side, as well as the book she was reading. For whatever reason she refused to acknowledge, it was a book about local potion ingredients. Hermione wasn’t in the state to start reading but she summoned the book anyway, as per usual, and now she regretted it, because her mind started lingering elsewhere. 

Frustration bubbled up inside her. Why did she even care about Malfoy ditching their morning tea? Hard as she tried, she couldn’t forget about the mornings waiting for him with a scarf around her, looking at her reflection to check if she looked good enough, and how his mouth slightly grinned at the sight of her. Such a tiny detail of her routine, that she didn’t consider important ever before, now was such a loss in her daily life. Too bad she was missing something she never had, but had taken for granted instead. Her blonde... friend? didn’t owe her anything.

And just like that, she fell asleep.

Waking up at six o’clock wasn’t pleasant that morning, but her surprise birthday gifts were a plus. Several packages waited for her, and a few owls were waiting outside her window sill for treats. After opening three different books in a row from three different Weasley family members, a “care package” from Zoe (including magical facemasks with numerous health benefits and an otter plush), a new crimson and gold wristwatch from Harry and a very thoughtful postcard from McGonagall, she realized another wrapped present was unopened. A sleek, lightweight silver box that rested on top of her bedside table. 

While she undid the wrapping, she noticed a small piece of paper sticking out that said “Happy birthday, Golden Girl”. No signature to identify the person who sent her a delicate golden fountain pen, one could only guess by the bright paper and Hermione didn’t want to play that game. 

She didn’t want to imagine him holding two paper cups her way later that morning, or joining their Ministry-wide special lunch break, or tagging along for drinks after work. She didn’t want to imagine him at all. 

She did, anyway. She walked her way to work while thinking about what he’d done after she left with Noah a few days before, and if he would be missing for much longer; wondering if it would be a good idea to drop by his office to say hello, and ultimately deciding against it. Zoe waited for her with flowers in hand when she got to their building, and hugged her so tight she thought one of her eyes might pop out of her skull. 

The morning flew by, and they joined some coworkers from different departments for lunch. On Hermione’s birthday, everyone liked to swing by and be thankful for every piece of work she’d taken off their hands. Her friend noticed her eyes darting across the café looking for someone, and she could hear her say, both hands on her hips, as her mind drifted off: “Don’t be so sad about it, Mi! You’re not asking him to join us so he won’t! We’re lucky he likes me enough to take up my invitations. I thought your school class dictated that you were brave, but you still won’t try to ask him out...” 

Soon after work, Lucas texted her to get ready before 10 pm. Their plan was simple: everyone had a quick dinner at home, and then they would be stopping at the first decent-looking pub for some craft beer and straight to clubbing. Both of them loved dancing and knew every song on Muggle radio, and Hermione had read somewhere that moving rythmically was good for releasing stress. There was no way for her to get out of Zoe’s planning, so she might as well have fun while at it.

Half an hour went by before she chose her outfit for the night: a white, straight-legged satin one-piece jumpsuit, with wide straps that crossed her exposed back, and a cropped leather jacket to contrast. Styling her hair back was difficult, but she had to at least try to pin it back in a bun. Zoe showed up dressed in a beautiful pink silky minidress and a dark, oversized, fuzzy coat, rocking black knee-high platform boots with neon pink accents in its heart-shaped lace straps. Lucas sported a half-way open pink silk shirt to match Zoe. 

They side-apparated near their club of choice, and laughed to some past year memories with cold brewed pints in hand in a random dark pub. After clinking one too many glasses, the three of them decided it was time to dance alcohol away from their bodies, and headed to their favourite club. It was a Muggle club, as per Shrub’s request, hidden from the rest of society: you had to go through three sets of stairs and its own pub (a bit expensive for their liking) to get into the dancing room. 

As they crossed the door, neon and black lights surrounded them, and the bass pounded on the ground enough to make them shake while standing up. Soon enough, Zoe ran to the opposite side of the dancefloor to greet someone, possibly Noah and their group, Hermione thought, and Lucas followed along. She wasn’t interested enough to check it out, as she didn’t feel she would be able to hold coherent conversation anyway, and eyed alongside the room to find the bar instead. 

Midnight neared, and after grabbing a light whiskey-based drink she decided to start dancing. Dancehall and latin pop mixed in the speakers, and, surrounded by a mass of strangers, she felt like she could let go. Her friends had disappeared into the back of the room, and now it was her time to shine. Feeling the floor shake under her feet and people around her jiggle, she closed her eyes, threw her arms in the air and focused on the lyrics of the song playing as she moved with everyone else.

As she lost herself listening to the recording tell the tale of unrequited love born on the dancefloor of a club, a hand touched her hip from behind and a face bending over her shoulder to whisper something to her ear. 

“Thought I wouldn’t make it! Happy birthday, Granger.”

Shivers down her spine, she turned around to face an already tipsy Malfoy, with the same drink she had ordered not three minutes ago in hand. He showed up hair slicked back, with three rogue strands falling over his eyes, and wearing a white linen, stand collar shirt and an open leather jacket just like hers. Contrary to what she was used to, he seemed pretty pleased with himself. 

Hermione looked down and saw his hand still on her hip, and blushed at once. Once he realized, he moved it and seized the opportunity to take off his jacket and check his watch. “Right before midnight. Just perfect.” The music was so loud they had to be close to hear each other, closer than they had ever been, and her dancing came to just shifting from one foot to another.

“What are you doing here?”, she blurted out. _Damn, Hermione._

“Zoe invited me. Funny little girl, she mentioned something along the lines of you missing me?”, he half-smiled.

“You stopped bringing me tea.”

“I’m not your servant, Granger. And you looked like you had good company.” His hand was back on her body, now on her waist. Now she missed it on her hips. Wait, no, she didn’t. Did she? She gulped down the last of her drink, left the glass on a nearby stool, and turned to his face, matching his smile. 

“Were you jealous, Malfoy?” 

“Come now, Granger”, he replied, cheekily, gesturing at the bartender for two more drinks.

“I want to know why you stopped showing up.” Puppy eyed and pouting, she hoped he’d fall for her trap. She was thankful for having the gift of doing multiple things at once. First, she focused on the way he danced and how effortless it looked when he did it. Second, she noticed the new song was about someone playing it hard to get. Third, the conversation kept going. A shame, really, since she only wanted to dance for the night.

“I skip morning tea three days and you’re a mess about it?” He laughed, brushing it off. 

She would be embarrassed about the whole situation come next morning, maybe, but she didn’t care in the moment. “Yes, to be honest! However, right now I find I don’t care that much. We’re friends, right?”

“I thought that was up to you.”

“Look, let’s dance. As friends.”

Dumbfounded, he stared at her as the server brought them their drinks, the smirk in his face growing by the second. He chuckled on the rim of his new glass. 

“It’s my birthday and I want to dance.”

“Technically, it’s not your birthday anymore.”

“Would you be so cruel to deny the birthday girl a dance, Malfoy?”

“Keep sweet-talking and this”, he uttered, gesturing with one finger between them as he raised an eyebrow, ”could take an unexpected turn, Granger.”

And just like that, they were jumping in the dance floor to the music. It couldn’t be called dancing because their bodies were so close pressed together that not much movement was allowed, and as more people joined them, less space was available to dance. The songs kept telling stories about the dangerous side of love, be it unrequited or possessive, and the playful side of sex. 

Colourful flashes surrounded them as Hermione lifted her free hand and moved it to the rhythm of the tunes. Exchanging glances and grins with Malfoy being so close to his face was making her lose her composure, so she closed her eyes and kept on smiling, mouthing the few lyrics she knew. Alcohol was getting to her, evident by the way she didn’t shy away from her consonants slurring as she tried to pronounce some Spanish words from the songs.

She could feel his hand going down on her curves as she sensed him move in and mumble near her right ear, a soft “So what if I was jealous?”. His breath reeked of whiskey and lime, so maybe he drank his whiskey sour. She contemplated ordering more drinks, but instead rolled her closed eyes. Her arms over his shoulders as they shifted, she stated “Git”. 

Synth sounds were getting stronger, and she turned around to get some air. The first thing she saw as she noticed Malfoy pressed behind her was Zoe, looking straight into her eyes from the other side of the room, who threw a thumb up in the air, widely grinning, and spun while jumping-slash-dancing to whisper something to Lucas. 

Their movement was becoming monotonous now that they’d found their rhythm, and she wasn’t about to complain about it, because she could feel her knees weaken between the tiredness and the excitement of the party. Completely in sync, she could throw herself to the beat. 

Malfoy shifted behind her, and for a split second she thought he might be uncomfortable from their closeness. However, he was turning her over so she’d be facing him, and he whispered to her face as he stroked a rogue strand of hair that poked out of her hairdo. 

“You’re so golden, Granger.” 

Unsure of how to proceed, she grabbed the hand she had on her hips and moved towards the emptiest bar she could see. When they got there, she glanced back at him and saw that he looked at her with fire behind his eyes, a new look for him. Satisfied, she rested her arm on the bar and smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beware the longest a/n of the whole ao3 server!
> 
> 1\. i know the storyline is very much in the air. i've never mentioned their age or which year this is based on. long story short, i want everyone to imagine whatever the hell they want lol. in my mind they're in the late 20s, yet the setting is loosely 2020. that's not canon compliant as they'd be much older by now, but to be honest i don't really mind. sorry if this bugs anyone! feel free to imagine them living their best lives in 2006, or be 40 years old right now. 
> 
> 2\. the songs i'm describing in the chapter are la santa and la difícil by bad bunny. thank you benito for making the best dancing music ever. this is also probably not accurate with australia's clubbing culture, but i'm from latin america and that's the music i listen to whenever i want to dance. i spend hours and hours researching everything australian from slang to locations and food (this club is based on an actual club called chinese laundry, isn't that the coolest name!) so it makes at least a little bit of sense. sorry if i mess up!
> 
> 3\. please humour me and my 5sos and harry styles references. thank you for putting up with me.


	6. Boom

“Sorry, I needed some space. I’m not really used to partying”, she said as she combed through her fringe with her fingers.

Her face red and sweaty, Granger looked radiant. Having let go, her low bun was coming undone, curls roaming free, and the little makeup she had been wearing was gone by the second drink. She didn’t seem to notice or care enough about it, and was distracted by a pink and cyan neon sign that read the name of the club. 

Malfoy couldn’t believe what had happened so far. 

He had been contacted by Granger’s assistant the day before, who said “she’d do anything she could to distract Noah all night”, winked at him and texted him time and place. Having already bought her present, the only thing left to choose was its wrapping. Silver was classy enough and it matched his owl. Not that she would get to see his owl, anyway. The mere idea of sending an owl in plain daylight through Muggle Sydney made him laugh. No, it had to be done during the night. Then, she would get the present from her window while half asleep and brush the memory off as a dream. 

Later on, he had to stop himself before he showed up at the Minister lunch. Zoe insisted that her shock would be bigger if he crashed the party instead, so he spent his afternoon brooding alone while brewing an undetectable poison that could make Snape proud. As all his coworkers moved to the lounge to meet Granger, he Apparated home to take a cold shower or three. Anything to soothe his nerves.

In the shower he got a bit of much needed clarity. Looking back, his dramatic breakdown that past week had been in vain. Even when he tried to steer clear and leave her alone so she could date whomever she pleased, and he almost believed he could use this time to try to make a pathetic attempt to move on, he couldn’t. Pansy and Zabini had gotten the worst, broody side of him the past week. They had almost kicked him out of Serpensortia, and threatened to replace him with none other than Theodore Nott, who was good looking but too air-headed to match his presence in his opinion. To apologize he had ordered two of the finest Pinot Grigio bottles French money could buy. 

Merlin, if only they could see him right now. After he behaved his best all day long, he felt like his efforts had paid off. Anyway, friends do this together, surely? This being dancing until they were out of breath, pressed so close together it looked like they were riding the 6:45 am tube to Canary Wharf. It didn’t have to feel weird or out of place. Right? In any case, he wasn’t about to let the night end that quick.

“That’s quite alright, neither am I. Do you want to order anything else?” 

“It’s almost 2 am. This place is closing soon, so maybe one last drink?” 

Her hands were suddenly all over the place: dancing on the tabletop, waving around to call for a bartender, gesturing with her index and middle finger to make it known she wanted two of the same whatever she was drinking, pointing to someone in the crowd and saying hello, stirring the ice of her new drink with the straw… Granger’s smile was mesmerizing, but he couldn’t afford to entertain these feelings.

“Sure. Are you in any way capable to Apparate after this last one?”

“I live in the neighbourhood, don’t worry.”

Trying to hide his smirk, he added, “Let me walk you home, then.” 

“My, thank you, Malfoy!” Placing a hand on his chest, she laughed.

As the music turned slower and the dance floor started to empty, people he didn’t know but she did greeted them. Granger looked at him and realized her hand was still on him and quickly withdrew it, and blushed as she made conversation with the group. Some of them introduced themselves as Sprout’s friends, and Granger introduced him as her friend, a word that made his brain nitpick everything about what was going on: her face, her verbal and non-verbal expressions, the way these strangers reacted to the news. Not being used to being associated with her, he didn’t want people to think their friendship was weird. Why would it be strange, though, to a bunch of strangers? He tried to relax.

Both of them were sitting next to each other, their feet touching, on two high stools nearby the bar when a face he recognized approached them. Two, actually. The first one was Zoe, sweaty and tired from dancing all night, who nodded to say hi as she smiled. She was hand in hand with a guy he didn’t know, who he learnt was Zoe’s very sleepy boyfriend. The other face he knew was the guy Granger had a date with. His back straightened, he curled his lips and signaled a greeting out of courtesy. Noah, as he reminded himself, didn’t look too happy about his discovery.

“Hey, Hermione, happy birthday! I can’t believe we missed each other all night long.”

“Noah! The dance floor was packed, I could barely see Malfoy. How are you?”

“I’m good! I’ve missed you, you know…”, he confessed as he raised a hand to touch her cheek.

“Stop it, don’t be silly! We saw each other yesterday.”

_ Yesterday? _ Hadn’t they met on Monday? As he frowned, his head snapped to watch her face drop as she realized her innocent admission made him react in any kind of way. Her eyes avoiding his stare, she chuckled as Noah asked her to meet again sometime soon and dance one song with him before they all left. Some burning feeling he hadn’t felt in a few days now crept upwards through his chest, but he needed to tone it down. Salazar strike him down, this wouldn’t be the day he lost control. He didn’t want to admit his feelings to himself, let alone manifest them publicly out of fear of losing their recent friendship. Feeling her look at him as she hesitated to answer her companion, he shrugged. 

Noah seized the half second it took Granger to react to his indifference and pulled her into the dance floor, grabbing her by one hand and putting his other one on her waist. As they jumped together, not even three metres away from him, Zoe approached him. “He’s not even competition, you know. Don’t be cranky!”, she said as she looked for Lucas. Batting her eyelashes, she stated: “I’m ready to leave, Lu. Let’s go home.”

“Why would I care?” Malfoy snapped. “Because I don’t.”

“Excuse me, new guy?”

“I said I don’t care about him, or them.” He drank the last of his beverage and rose from his seat, putting his leather jacket on as he glanced at his watch.

“Except you care, and it’s painfully obvious you do. Gin always says you’re an idiot and I’m starting to believe her, if you truly believe you’re hiding the way you look at her.”

“Who is this Gin, please? Do I know her?”

“Ginny Weasley, of course. She’s Mi’s best friend. I think you know her from school?”

Malfoy scoffed and rolled his eyes. and rolled his eyes “She rings a bell.”

“Now that I think about it, she might have mentioned you never called her by her name. Something about loving last names? He’s Woodberg, by the way. Noah, I mean. Good luck, Ferret.”

The song ended as her last word sinked in and she disappeared into the crowd with her tired boyfriend, most probably heading home with a grin as wide as the Thames across her face. Malfoy glanced in Granger’s direction, and caught her trying to get away from her dancing partner’s arms. Getting closer than he intended, he heard Noah say, “I’m rooted and you’re pissed, Hermione. Why don’t I walk you home?” Perfect moment for an intervention, really.

“Bugger off, Woodberg.” He stepped between them and brushed a rogue hair strand behind Granger’s ear as he smiled at the sparkly eyes that complimented her confused expression.

“I’m sorry?”

“She already has plans for the four blocks walk to her apartment.” 

A flash of wounded pride across his eyes, he muttered, “Sure. I’ll see you around, Hermione.”

The air was icy when they stepped outside of the club. He didn’t notice when she cast a wandless warming spell around them. Granger slung her arm to hold onto his own, and started walking to her place in silence.  _ This is normal,  _ he thought.  _ Friends do this for each other. It will be alright. _ His mind started racing from excuses and apologies for the things he’d done and said during the night to picturing a forbidden goodbye on her doorstep as he tried to contain his cheerfulness. Retreat, retreat. 

As if she had heard the gears of his brain grinding nonstop, she looked up to meet his eyes. The only sound that surrounded them was the sound of her heels on the street. “Thank you for coming tonight. This night has been something I can’t explain.”

“I know you can do better than that, Granger.”

“You say that, but you know nothing about me.”

“Oh, but I do. You’re the brightest witch of our age, after all. And a Gryffindor through and through. Why else would you be wasting your time with me, if you weren’t a rebel?”

Smiling at the ground, she replied, “Shut up, Malfoy.”

Car noises in the background distracted him for a moment. 

“Are you still in contact with the youngest Weasley?”

“Eh? Well, yes, of course. She’s like a little sister to me, why do you ask?”

“Sprout addressed me as the Ferret today.”

“You’re joking.” Granger looked mortified. “She shouldn’t know. I’m—”

He smirked at her from above as she covered her face with her fringe. “Don’t be. I don’t mind. It indicates you’ve discussed my presence with your friends, so my ego feels better about it than you’d think.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she quickly replied, “Not a big deal. It's not like I could hide my bully’s intrusion into my peaceful life from the one girl who hated you until you left Hogwarts.” 

“Isn't that your title?”

“Oh, no, it's Ginny’s. I tried my best to ignore you after I slapped you. Hating you meant giving you too much attention. Turns out I had better priorities during school.”

“Evident by your end of year marks, but duly noted. All your friends hated my guts by you, even though I was a jerk to you because your blood status.”

“Something like that.”

The conversation got slower the closest they got to her flat, since the cold knocked their tipsy state of mind a notch or two down, and the reality of it being well past midnight kicked in. In a last attempt to sleep better at night, Malfoy tried apologising again and she explained they had already moved on from that topic and asked him to stop bringing it up so much. A few yawns and snarky comments at the other later, they arrived to her building’s doorstep.

“This is me. Thank you for walking me, Malfoy. I had heaps of fun tonight.” She stood on the third step of the stairs that reached the entrance. Granger was facing him, holding on to the stair railing, and for once looked him straight in the eye instead of slightly upwards.

It hurt him to know she was so close to him but he couldn’t kiss her hands goodbye. He was getting better at being alone with her, but never intimate. Dancing in a dark, full club surrounded by strangers made their past closeness easier. This situation was way outside his comfort zone, though. Half of his mind was thinking how he didn’t even deserve this opportunity and the other half was pressing for him to give his wants a chance.

He took a step back and sighed. Pansy had already once said he’d be hurt from having her number but being unable to call or text her like he’d do anyone else. Maybe now he could, given they had been declared officially friends. The thought made him chuckle. 

“Good night, Granger. I’m glad your birthday was fun.”

“Zoe and Lucas do this every other weekend and I tag along sometimes. You should join us if you want to. As my friend.”

“As friends, of course.”

“Yes. Friends. Us.”

Silence ensued. The night had truly taken a turn from what his plans allowed him to imagine.

“Is it weird?” Her voice was so quiet, it was hard to hear it even a few hours shy of dawn.

“Sorry?”

“Is it weird that we might be... friends now? I don’t want to make things odd, I’m fine being just coworkers.”

And with that, he laughed.

Her eyes opened wide. Malfoy took it as a cue to steal Zabini’s words. 

“I’m at your mercy here, Granger, for fuck’s sake. As a mate told me, I’ll take whatever crumbs you decide to give me. Anything you decide to do or say, I’ll never take for granted. Just being here with you feels completely surreal. Of couse being called your friend feels weird. But it works in my favour so I’m not complaining.”

Before she could react, he winked an eye and exclaimed “Sleep well, Golden Girl” as he Apparated home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020 is a pretty fucked up year, i have a lot of stuff going on and i can't promise to stick to a weekly update schedule like i did before.   
> sorry! but i'll stick to a biweekly one if i can't make the weekly update.   
> writing this fic is one of the few things keeping me from going crazy.   
> thank you for all kudos and comments, they quite literally make my day.


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